Paperwork
by reen212000
Summary: John Sheppard returns to light duty. If only someone could help with the overdue reports, and emails, and... Written for sgaflashfic's Doppelganger challenge on LJ.


John Sheppard limped into his office, dreading the stacks of reports and messages waiting for him. He had been out of commission for the last week, thanks to a concussion and an infection. _No more falling down ravines_ The various cuts and scrapes down the left side of his body quickly became infected during their long trek back to the gate. When they finally returned to Atlantis, he was delirious with pain and fever.

Settling awkwardly in his chair, John pulled over a plastic crate to rest his foot on. According to, like, everyone, he had escaped the infirmary in the middle of the night, tripped and fell just outside his quarters. The sprained ankle was the only thing that ached now; elevating it help ease the pain.

_Could this stack be any taller? If Lorne was here, his ass would so be in here helping me_

John began the arduous task of sorting when Rodney McKay suddenly appeared. He wasn't sure how long the scientist had been standing there, and it was a little unnerving that Rodney had sneaked up on him. Taking a breath to calm himself, he smiled up at his friend. "Rodney. What can I do for you?"

Rodney took a hesitant step inside. "Well, it's lunchtime, so I thought... Are you okay?"

Feeling his brows twitch together, John looked up from the stack of reports. "What do you mean? I'm fine."

"You look really tired. And, um, more pale than usual."

"Rodney, your concern is making me very uncomfortable." He tried for a light-hearted laugh, but it ended in a cough. Reaching for a water bottle, he took several gulps. "In answer to your invitation, no, I'm gonna knock out some of this paperwork."

"Well, maybe you should, you know, take a nap first. Maybe–"

"McKay! Leave it alone! I'm fine!" John sighed loudly. "My ankle's a little sore but that's it, so..." Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms. "Look, why don't you come get me in an hour."

Rodney's mouth was pressed into a firm line. "Fine." He turned to leave but stopped. "Hey, getting coffee. Want one?"

More than a little relieved, John grinned. "Sure. And if you see any of that sticky Athosian bread..."

"Right!" And Rodney was off down the corridor.

Smiling to himself, John continued sorting into separate stacks.

------------------

_"On your feet, Pilot!"_ A voice bellowed next to his ear.

John flew out of his chair to stand at attention. Had he fallen asleep? _Where –_

"I've been told your paperwork has been lax, Sheppard. Care to explain?"

When John finally focused on the blurry person before him, his heart stopped. _That's me!_

This John Sheppard was in a starched uniform, standing stiffly with his hands clasped behind his back. His hair was neatly trimmed, and if John estimated correctly, this man had a good twenty pounds on him. With all the stress, guilt, and bouts of infirmary visits, John admitted his own weight was not what it used to be.

"Snap out of it, _Sheppard!_" Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard used his command voice on his weaker self. "This is disgraceful." He waved a hand over the messy desk.

Rodney wandered into the office munching on a power bar. "Why are you standing? You should be off that ankle, you know." He didn't seem to notice the doppelganger standing next to him. "As long as you're standing, let's go get lunch."

"Sorry, Rodney. Little busy at the moment," John said patiently, trying to get to the bottom of the matter.

"Don't worry about the paperwork. He'll do it," Rodney said, jerking a sticky thumb towards The Colonel.

John felt light-headed at that moment, and was forced to sit down. "What?" he asked, but it came out as a croak.

"I thought you needed some help, so I asked The Colonel to come down. So, you know, don't worry about it."

When John looked up again, he saw Rodney sporting a cheerful grin. _Nothing wrong at all, Sheppard..._ "Umm, okay. You don't see anything wrong with this picture?"

"What do you mean, John?" The stupid grin still on Rodney's face.

John threw up his hands and stood. He covered his listing body by leaning heavily on the desk. "Rodney," he ground out. "There's a nearly perfect copy of me standing next to you. And you aren't the least bit worried?"

Shrugging his shoulders, the scientist stepped around the desk. "Why should I be? I made him for you." In a flash, he placed a cool hand on John's forehead. "You okay? Is your fever back?"

John weakly slapped the hand away. "No, I do _not_ have a fever! _What is going on here?_"

The Colonel stepped forward. "I think it's time for you to go now, Sheppard. You have two hours to get your head together, so I suggest you start now. Dismissed!"

"But –"

"I think you better leave now, John. You know what happened the last time you disobeyed The Colonel," Rodney said quietly. Placing a hand under his friend's elbow, he guided John out of the office.

"But–" He couldn't understand what was going on right now. It made him dizzy to even think about it.

"Don't worry about it. You're just hungry. We'll get lunch, go for a walk–"

"Rodney! There's a copy of me, and you're not worried! I can't–" The edges of his vision started to darken. If he wasn't careful, he would hurt his ankle again.

"You just need some fresh air and a nap, then you'll feel better. Promise!"

They entered the commissary and everyone stopped everything, looking in expectation at the entrance. Collectively, they sighed, looking disappointed. Turning away, they continued eating, ignoring John and Rodney.

_What the hell is going on?_

Rodney led his limping friend over to a table. "You sit, and I'll get our food. And," he waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry about them. They're just waiting for The Colonel. Be right back!"

John looked around him in wild-eyed wonder. _I don't understand what's going on. Am I dreaming?_ He let out a yelp. Someone had pinched him.

"Nope. I guess not," Elizabeth said, sitting next to him, grinning like the Chestershire cat. "Are you all right? You look really pale."

"No. I am _not_ all right," he said quietly, anger rising steadily. He pointed in the direction of his office. "There is a copy of me running around–"

As if on cue, The Colonel sauntered into view. Everyone in the mess hall rose and whooped and clapped. The Colonel saluted them all, tossing a rakish grin here and there. People ran up to him, asking him all sorts of questions. He patiently answered them, sending them off with stars in their eyes.

When he finally took a seat across from John, The Colonel snagged Elizabeth's hand, kissing the top of it. "Liz, it's good to see you."

She twittered and blushed appropriately. "Thank you, Colonel. It's been a while."

Rodney returned with a tray piled high with food. He placed it in front of The Colonel, and began distributing between the two of them. Looking up at John, he did a double-take. "Oh. You're still here. I'm not sure if I brought enough for you."

"Just give him one of my sandwiches, Rodney. He won't eat it anyway." The Colonel smiled cruelly at the inferior original. "Maybe you should go lie down, John. I'll take care of everything."

Suddenly, John felt like The Colonel was a pod person. _He_ is _a pod person! I can't go to sleep..._

"Hey, Colonel!" Someone came up with a New York Times crossword. "I need a thirteen letter word for 'lofty expression; pompous.'"

The Colonel was still staring down the sickly man across from him. "Grandiloquent."

"Colonel! We just found the best example of SOC! Here! In another galaxy!" A group of scientists were vibrating so much excitement, they were bouncing.

The Colonel laughed. "Well. Self-organized criticality is hard enough to prove in our own galaxy, let alone somewhere else. I'll stop by later to check your research." He waved them off as the next group of people came.

"Isn't he great?" said Teyla.

"Yeah! The old Colonel Sheppard couldn't answer that," said Ronon.

"I think he should go back to Earth. We will keep The Colonel," said Radek.

The people closed in on their table, saying that the old, broken John Sheppard would have to go. To make things worse, Elizabeth smiled.

"People! I know you're all excited to see The Colonel back, but this doesn't mean John will leave us. How about we keep both? One to go on the missions, and the other to stay and help everyone."

Everyone looked at each other nodding in agreement.

"Ah, Elizabeth," Rodney stood, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "I'll organize a schedule for the various departments. That way The Colonel can be at each department at any time."

"Or you could make another one," a woman said in the back.

"She's got a point. Two new Colonels would be better than the old one," Elizabeth said, brow raised. "Why don't you get to work on that–"

"Now wait just a damn minute! I–"

"Shut up! You're not the commanding officer anymore, Sheppard," Major Lorne said, hand on sidearm.

"Easy there, Major. I think he gets the idea." The Colonel rose, and everyone took a step back. He tapped his comm. "Hey, Carson. I think Sheppard needs to spend some more time in the infirmary. He's not looking so good."

Now, John stood. Shakily at first, then locked his knees. "I'm not going anywhere. Not until you–"

"I, what, John? Disappear? I'm not going anywhere. You are."

Suddenly, John felt hands on him, lifting him off the ground. Below, he heard The Colonel. "Carson? Yeah, sorry. Cancel that last request. Looks like Sheppard's leaving on his own..."

John always wanted to crowd surf, but not like this. He struggled against them, but it only made them work faster. A familiar door whispered open, leading to the large balcony outside the mess hall. The sky was beautiful and blue and clear. Perfect for a trip in the 'jumper.

Perfect for a funeral.

The last thing he saw was The Colonel, his lopsided smile and a careless wave.

_"Colonel! Sheppard! Wake up!"_

Sheppard gasped for breath as he lay on the floor of his office. He heard Rodney frantically trying to calm him, but to no avail. The colonel scrambled back against the wall trying to flee McKay's grasp. "Get away from me! You're not going to make another me!"

McKay sputtered, face etched in confusion. "What? Sheppard, you're making no sense– What is wrong with you?" He rose slowly, keeping his hands visible. "I just came to ask if you wanted lunch."

"Huh? You just asked me that. And we went. You gave my food to The Colonel!"

"Sheppard! What the _hell_ are you talking about?" Rodney's eyes widened. "You still have a fever, don't you? You're completely delirious!" He tapped his comm. "Carson–"

"No! I'm just doing a little work. I promise I'll be done soon!"

Rodney's brow scrunched together. "You better come down to the colonel's office–"

"It's not his office! It's my office!" John stood quickly, ignoring the tilting room. "You are _not_ going to replace me with one of your pet Replicators! I refuse to let that happen!"

"Are you crazy?" Rodney took a step forward. "You gotta calm down, Sheppard. No one's going to replace you."

"But–"

"You were having a bad dream. That's all. Calm down," the scientist used his voice to soothe the disturbed man.

"What?" John felt light-headed again. _Dreaming? It was so real..._

"I think you fell asleep at your desk. When I came in, you were on the floor rambling on about a crossword puzzle. Everything is fine now. You're awake."

Everything suddenly focused, edges sharp and real. John passed a hand over his sweaty face. "Dreaming. I was dreaming." He began to laugh, and couldn't stop. The laughter was contagious.

When Carson Beckett entered, he found the Chief Scientist and the Chief Military Officer on the floor laughing hysterically. "What the bloody hell is goin' on here?"

-------------

The End.


End file.
